


What Heroes Can't Afford

by mongoosling



Category: Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoosling/pseuds/mongoosling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's been playing the hero for years and only now realizing that there's a learning process involved. Wally West begins to understand that if you snooze on the job there's a price to pay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Heroes Can't Afford

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I had to write up and figured I might as well share it, get this fanfic account rolling. Please enjoy and lemme know what you think if you feel like it.

Wally West was 17 and he’d never felt more useless in his life.

It was with bright eyes that he’d taken on the role of Kidflash seven years ago. He was living what other kids his age could only dream about; playing a hero, working with _the Flash_ of all people. It was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Life was sweeter than it ever had been before, and for a moment Wally West was as free as the wind he ran beside.

Then against all odds, his responsibilities began to gain on him. No one was free of real life. He was quick to learn that even superheroes had responsibilities outside of saving the world. Speed had been his primary concern, racing next to Barry, trying to keep up with him, all the while slowing down enough for his friends and family to catch up. Wally became obsessed with time and how slow it seemed to drag on. No one could keep up with him out of costume, yet in it he never seemed fast enough. His classmates were dull, his family even more so. As he was forced to sit at his desk day in and day out he began to lose touch with the mundane. His muscles would jitter impatiently just aching for that dismissal bell so he could dash off and be the hero once again, aching for freedom, nothing holding him back, alone with the wind pounding in his ears as he ran to earn the respect of thankful citizens.

There was nothing quite like a sucker punch to bring a kid back to Earth.

Even the fastest speedster couldn’t outrun the inevitable. Every life, no matter how super ended in darkness. _Death_ , people were dying in the real world. He hadn’t fully grasped it as a kid, but now he saw it clear as ever in the dampened eyes of a crying girl. She was his age… still a kid. It was a harsh reminder. Her mother had been crushed by a falling beam in the midst of a fire. It wasn’t as if this was his first rodeo, he was used to the issue, not a challenge at all, but-- he hadn’t been paying attention. When he’d finally noticed the looming disaster it was too late, just not fast enough. It was his fault the woman had died, he’d been goofing off on the job, not taking the threat seriously, now this girl was alone. Crying. His fault.

“I’m sorry, I— ”

Her sobbing cut off for a moment, and she waited, prepared to listen to any comforting words he had to offer. There was nothing… That was when he’d sprinted off in the opposite direction, several wisps of her hair rose up after him as if to pull him back. He couldn’t even spare a glance over his shoulder not wanting to see the mess he’d left in his wake.

Barry would notice his absence soon and come running after him. It would take him seconds to catch up. Barry was faster, Barry would have caught that woman before the beam crushed her. Barry would have stayed behind to clean up the mess even if he hadn’t been successful. Barry Allen was the true hero.

Wally West was just a mess. Wally West was a sidekick. The Kidflash. If he even deserved that title anymore. As if the universe was in agreement with the sentiment, Wally West stumbled, tripping over his own feet like a novice and skidding against the ground, ripping up his suit and skin in the process. He’d landed on his back, in position to lay flat and stare at the suddenly blurring sky. He’d been a child the last time he’d cried, and he tried not to think about it now, instead concentrating on the stinging of his fresh cuts. It wasn’t a smart distraction.

Heroes couldn’t afford to cry. Heroes had to save the day.


End file.
